


Thursday

by Cards_Slash



Series: Arabian Stallions [8]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Kitchen Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cards_Slash/pseuds/Cards_Slash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Malik has to have sex with Maria who wants to have sex with Altair who just wants these people who keep coming to his house to play video games to disappear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday

**Author's Note:**

> ...I'm sorry about the bad porn dialogue

Altair had not been in enough relationships in his life to understand the usual steps. He knew enough from watching movies and sitcoms to know at some point people exchanged keys and met each other’s parents and sweated their way through love vows. Altair gave Malik a key, Malik met Altair’s parents (in his case a Grandmother) and they’d made a regular habit out of admitting that they were stupid for loving one another. Malik did not have another key to his apartment to offer him and his parents had stopped talking to him years ago. 

There were other things though, that Altair couldn’t figure out if they were too strange to mention on network TV or if they just did not happen in the average relationship. Things like:

Maria, wearing nothing but Malik’s black-sex shirt showing up at his front door with what was obviously an ‘after appointments’ bag over her shoulder. She smiled at him with her most charming smile (a truly charming sight) and said, “Malik said you’d probably let me use your shower.” She waited until she was invited in and directed to the guest bathroom where she stayed for long enough to cause Altair real concern before emerging wearing a skirt and a white button down shirt with Malik’s shirt hanging over her shoulder. “Thank your boyfriend for me, yeah?” She was leaning over the back of his couch when he said it. He nodded his head as he scrolled through the endlessness of the internet. 

Or:

Kadar had taken up texting him the most bizarre statements—stupid crap usually about the food he was eating or headlines that he found in newspapers. Once in a while he sent him texts like (client today told Malik he was as unpleasant as burnt toast, asked me why people paid money to be insulted by his face. It was awesome.) Then there was: _hey, send me a picture of your dick. I’m sexting this guy and I must have deleted the one I had on my phone._

Altair was at work when he got the text which was only half of the problem. For a moment he tried to find the appropriate reaction to such a request (denial, outrage, any of those things). But he said, _ask your brother. He’s closer to your skin tone._

Kadar’s response was: _he won’t do it anymore. Nobody cares about skin tone._

 _How many times have you asked that he’s stopped doing it?_ Altair sent back and then he texted Malik, ‘ _your brother wants a picture of my dick for his sexting_ ’. 

He’d expected outrage (maybe, because Malik was possessive on a good day) but what he got back was the world’s most put upon reply that came through his phone like a sigh. It said, ‘ _That doesn’t even make sense. He’s not circumcised and you are. Is this the guy that he’s trying to date because that’ll probably come up later if it is._ ’

Altair spent a full minute at his desk trying to remember Kadar’s dick in enough detail to verify that information. He honestly (one hundred percent) could not remember the presence or lack of foreskin. So his reply was, ‘ _what? He’s not? You’re are_.’

Kadar sent him a text that said _bitch, now he’s lecturing me._

But then there was things like:

Maria liked mixed drinks and her deceptively small body could handle more alcohol than Altair could imbibe without feeling the urge to puke all over his surroundings. She was hilarious when tipsy, some combination of standup comedian and lewd loser at a bar. They were playing black jack (poorly) when Malik excused himself to retrieve snacks and Maria sidled over to Altair with her eyes all narrowed. She said, “Does he still do the thing where he has to try out new sex positions every week?”

Altair was not aware that was even a thing that Malik did. “No? I don’t know. Usually, that’s me.”

“No it isn’t.” Maria pulled back, picked up her drink and took a swig before she narrowed her eyes at him. “I bet I know more positions than you.”

Altair snorted at the challenge. “You wish.”

“Bitch please, I was a gymnast and a cheerleader. I can do things with my body you couldn’t imagine.” And that was how they ended up in the stupidest contest ever recreating sex positions with their clothes on. Malik walked in on them in the middle and stood there like he couldn’t figure out what the hell he was even seeing before he simply sighed. 

“I guess it was inevitable,” he said. He sat in the big chair and offered commentary.

\--

It was a Thursday, late in the week (if your life revolved around free weekends), when Maria called him last minute like: “So, I have an appointment in twenty minutes. Woman watcher, doesn’t want to be touched just wants to see the naughty business in person. Edward just called hung over apologizing. I need a pinch hitter, we’ll split the fee evenly.” 

Malik groaned into the phone (he had not even gotten out of bed yet and was resolutely unashamed of the decision) before he turned his head to look at the unwashed pile of clothing. “My clothes are all dirty.”

Maria’s resounding silence at that objection was even more effective than her telling him how ridiculous he was might have been. “Yes or no?”

So he rolled out of bed and said, “how long do I have to get ready?”

“Five minutes. You don’t have to impress me so don’t get too prissy about it. Clean the important things and get your ass downstairs.” Then she hung up the phone in that quick way that meant she’d probably been driving the whole time and there was probably traffic. 

As instructed, Malik was waiting outside of the door to his apartment with a travel cup of coffee in hand. He got in the car and nearly managed to get the door shut before Maria was driving off again. “How long is this appointment?” 

“An hour,” Maria said, “I almost didn’t take it because I figured I’d end up with you then Edward said he’d do it. Who even gets drunk on a Wednesday?” That was a rhetorical question. So Malik just drank his coffee and let her rant about how unreliable men could be (he did not even pretend to get offended by it either. As she either did not count him as a man or she did not think he was reliable and neither thing was worth fighting over). “Also sometimes I think about sex with your boyfriend, possibly more now that I know he can bend and stretch. I mean, damn I’d hit that all fucking day.”

“What?” Malik said. 

“Oh, so you were listening. You have that look on your face like you’d walked out on your body.” She parked the car in front of a modest little house and shooed him out of the car and up to the front door. There were window boxes with flowers in them and a delightful collection of smiling gnomes peeking out from an overflowing garden of flowers. Maria knocked and then turned her head to look at him, “you can’t even pretend like you didn’t know.”

“I know you want to have sex with Altair,” Malik said. “I’m not sure he knows it. But I do.” 

“How can he not know? Like what do you have to do to get through to him? You think if I pulled his pants down and gave him a blow job he’d figure it out?” She knocked again when nobody answered and turned around to make sure there was a car in the drive before looking at her phone for the time. 

Malik frowned at her even as she smiled at him. “I have to have sex with you in a few minutes. Can you save trying to invite yourself to a threesome until after that? Because I’m not sure if I’m angry because I haven’t had breakfast or because I don’t want you touching my boyfriend.”

“Probably food.” Then the door opened and Maria turned to look at the skittish lady behind the screen door with her very best smile. It was immediately apparent the woman was incredibly nervous about the whole thing but Maria was better-than-average at reassuring people.

\--

Kadar had taken up the habit of randomly inviting himself to Altair’s house. Desmond had taken up the habit as well and the two of them had decided that since they were inviting themselves over they might as well bring video games to play. So when Altair came home on Thursday he found the two of them shouting curses at the rainbow road course. There was a litter of beer bottles (not his beer though) all across the table and floor and a few bags of chips and a variety of easy-to-heat food.

Altair pulled his key out of the door and stared at it for a moment trying to figure out if it had indeed been locked or not. Then he shut it behind him. “Why did you lock the damn door if you’re here?”

“I came in through the back door,” Desmond said.

Kadar snorted. “So did I. Desmond said to though.”

Altair walked around and dropped himself into the arm chair. There was nothing out to eat that seemed even remotely appealing so he slouched and mourned the lack of his boyfriend at his house when everyone else was there. “Is Malik working?” Altair asked. 

“He had a last minute thing with Maria. I think he’s pissed off because he took the car and wouldn’t give me a ride.” But Kadar was far more interested in Mario Kart than he was in Altair or his brother’s emotional stability. 

“I’m charging you fuckers an entrance fee from now on.” He shoved himself up to his feet, went upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes. He grabbed one of the books Malik told him to read, his box of cereal and went out to lay in the big chair to read until it got too dark to see. 

\--

Malik walked into Altair’s house at eight thirty to find his brother, Desmond and their creepy new friend (Connor? Something like that) playing some nonspecific first person shooter game and eating pizza they’d obviously ordered in. Altair, however, was not there. 

Malik’s day had not gone how he wanted. He had been dragged out to an appointment where a skittish, awkward, blushing woman had alternating between squeaking in embarrassed arousal and horrified staring while he tried to have sex with Maria. Having sex with Maria had been annoying enough without the distraction. 

Then there had been the awkward silence that followed after and Maria’s sigh when she dropped him off. “I get it, Malik. Not cool to joke about sex with your boyfriend. He’s off limits.”

The stink of her unapologetic disappointment followed him around as he spent the afternoon walking around looking at empty shops. He found one that he liked the best and spent a while sitting across from it thinking about if it would be a good spot for a bookstore. There were no other bookstores in the strip mall (or anywhere nearby for that matter). But thinking about it sent him down a spiral of thinking about the other things in his life that hadn’t gone as planned.

So by the time he arrived at Altair’s life he wanted nothing more than he wanted a comfort blow job and lengthy cuddling. (He’d admit to one but not the other.) Yet there was a whole living room full of idiots and no boyfriend. 

“He’s outside reading,” Kadar said.

\--

Malik looked angry-and-sad when he shoved Altair over and crawled up onto the chair next to him. “You need to stop letting my brother take advantage of your house.” That was all he said before he fit his body against Altair’s while he read. 

“They’re too drunk now to leave,” Altair said. “Except the creepy kid that doesn’t talk. He’s not drunk. I don’t think he drives though. I’m not sure how he gets here at all, I never see him come or go.”

Malik made an amused noise at that before he went quiet. A few pages of the book later he said, “do you want to have sex with Maria?”

“Maria wants to have sex with me,” Altair said. He hadn’t thought about the reverse (well he had, the way he now considered anyone to be a viable third-party option for their sex lives). But it seemed like one of those inevitable things how they had sex with Kadar once every five or six weeks. “Do you?”

“I get paid to have sex with Maria,” Malik said. “You didn’t answer.”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Altair said. “I wouldn’t ask for it either.”

The answer didn’t seem to be exactly what Malik wanted but he accepted it with grace.

\--

Mosquitos and darkness drove them back into the house where the noise from the living room was an obnoxious drawl of college-aged idiots drinking and playing stupid video games. It was a resonating reminder of living in a dorm and wasting time at frat houses. The very tone of their voices grated at Malik’s skin like fucking sand paper and he had to grit his teeth to keep from violently removing them from the house.

“Hey,” Altair said. His body was warm against Malik’s back, his hands slipping down the front of his shirt to roll up the bottom edge. His breath was warm against the back of Malik’s ear and his lips were damp-and-warm as they kissed his neck. His hand wormed its way up his shirt to pull him back. 

“If you’re waiting for a protest it’s not going to happen,” Malik said. He tipped his head back to expose his neck. Altair kissed his way up his neck and then used the wide sprawl of his fingers across Malik’s cheek to turn his face. They were kissing with an awkward twist as Malik half turned and rocked back against Altair’s body. “You’re doing all the work.” 

Altair groaned something that didn’t even make sense. The full weight of his body pushed Malik around so he was facing the counter. It was only his palms catching at the edge that kept him from bruising himself on the edge. The hand up his shirt was working its way down as Altair pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “If you don’t have a condom in here I’m sending your brother to get one,” he said.

“Now I wish I didn’t have one,” Malik said. He pulled his belt loose and unbuttoned his pants to wiggle them down. “I want a blow job though.” His dick was doing a terrible job getting interested in the proceedings but the soft groan Altair let out sent a shiver through his body. He meant after but Altair dropped his wallet on the counter and turned him around to face him. The man kissed him like he couldn’t stand another minute wasted not kissing him. His hands tightened around Malik’s chest and he lifted him up off the floor and set him on the counter. 

“God,” Malik whispered. Altair pulled back long enough to grab a chair from the table in the kitchen and dragged it over to sit on. “You idiot,” Malik mumbled. He wiggled his pants the rest of the way off his legs and let them drop with a thump to the floor. Altair put one of his legs over his shoulder and pushed the other open as he licked his lips in wicked anticipation. “Were you always such a fan of oral sex?” He ran his hand through Altair’s hair.

“I was, she wasn’t.” Then he curled his hand around Malik’s half-hard (at best) dick and gave it a few strokes before he ducked his head down. Oh-God-the-delicious-wet-slide of his mouth was like its own sort of drug. It wasn’t the technique—although that in and of itself was five stars—but the actual joy that Altair took in sucking him off. “Lube?” Altair asked after a moment. His lips were reddening in that obscene way they did and there was dampness on the edges of his mouth. Malik shook his head no and Altair sighed. “Kadar!” he shouted.

“What!” Kadar shouted back. But his footsteps stomped over to the doorway of the kitchen where he stopped with a flat frown. “That’s just rude.”

“I need lube. It’s in the drawer,” Altair said.

“I know where your fucking lube is,” Kadar snapped. Then he went to get it. 

Altair grinned to himself at how fucking clever he was before he kissed the inside of Malik’s leg and stroked his spit-slippery dick. After a moment of that, he ran his tongue up the bottom of Malik’s dick and closed his mouth around him again. When Kadar walked back in, Malik was groaning with his hand in Altair’s hair as he bobbed his head up and down sinking farther down with every pass.

Kadar threw the bottle at them and left with a disgusted growl. 

“Shit,” Malik mumbled. “Fuck.”

\--

Malik shoved him back with a foot on his shoulder and Altair opened his mouth to protest because the man was doing that thing where the muscle on the inside of his thigh started jumping around like crazy and his dick went rigidly hard. It was the point of highest arousal Malik could manage when he wasn’t buried balls deep in Altair’s ass (at least as far as he’d managed thus far). Another minute and he’d start spitting long curses in Arabic and making slurred promises about the things he was going to do to Altair. His whole body would break out in a fine sweat and his belly would clench up before he tightened his fists in Altair’s hair and started fucking into his mouth with an utter lack of shame. 

But Malik shoved him back and slid off the counter into his lap with both of his hand yanking Altair’s pants open. “Now,” he said, “come on.” When he finally managed to get Altair’s dick out he twisted back to grab the condom and then leaned down to grab the lube off the floor. Altair was decent at putting a condom but he looked like a fumbling teenager next to the pure poetry that was Malik putting a condom on. The bastard could probably do it one handed in the dark. 

“You remember that time we watched the bad porn?” Altair said. He was hanging on to Malik’s hips, praying his chair was as sturdy as the salesman said it was as Malik slicked his dick with lube. 

“Yeah,” Malik said, “you want me to shout about how great your dick is right now?” He lifted up enough to line Altair’s dick up and pushed down on him with a gasp. His eyes went wide and his mouth opened and the redness on his cheeks spread down his neck. For a moment he balanced himself like that, legs spread open and ass clenching on the tip of Altair’s dick in a way that more closely resembled pain than pleasure. 

“Make Desmond cry,” Altair said. He tugged Malik’s shirt up and managed to get it off his arms and over his head. The man’s body was quivering with the effort of the slow drop of his body as he took Altair in. They fell into a messy kiss as Altair touched him everywhere and sucked light pink marks into his neck just to feel the way his whole body seemed to twitch in response. “Fuck,” Altair said.

“You sure you want to do this?” Malik said. He leaned back against the counter with his elbows on it and the rounded edge digging into his back. He put his feet on the rungs of the chair so his knees spread wide open. 

“Bastards didn’t even unlock the front door,” Altair said.

“Oh,” Malik shouted (so suddenly Altair nearly knocked them both off the chair). His voice carried through the kitchen, around the bend and out through the doorway that fed into the living room. He slapped his hand against the counter at his side with an exaggerated moan. “That is so much dick!” 

Altair was grinning too fucking hard to respond, closed his hands on Malik’s waist as the man flexed his hips and lifted up, dropped down again with another embarrassingly loud moan. Then it was:

“Your big fucking dick is splitting me open!” He slapped his hand against the counter again and turned his head toward the suspicious quiet where the voices of the drunken fools in the other room had dimmed to nothing. It was only the sound of the video game audible over Malik’s heavy-pants. Malik’s arms were supporting the bulk of his weight as his abs tightened and his thighs tightened as he rode Altair. “You’re not doing very much work,” Malik said in a whisper, “feels like I’m doing it all.”

“There was zero chance you were actually going to let me do the fucking.” Because there was no point in being anything but honest. But he put an arm around Malik’s back and stood up, lifted the man up so he was right on the edge of the counter and his shoulders were against the cabinets. He said, “my dick is keeping your ass open like an twenty four hour pancake house!” 

Malik tipped his head back with one hand over his mouth and his shoulders hiccupping little giggles. His other arm went around Altair’s shoulders to drag him in and they were pressing sliding-little-kisses together with their smiles pulling their lips out of shape. Altair got his arms under Malik’s arms and started fucking into slow-and-steady. “Oh fuck!” Malik shouted as loud as he could, “your cock feels like a fucking baby arm in my ass. Oh yeah, fuck me like that. Fuck me!”

“Your greedy ass is begging for my dick,” Altair shouted back. But the absurdity of it was shaking giggles out of his lungs. Malik was grinning though and his hands were so sweet against Altair’s shoulders, cupped around his jaw as he started stuttering honest little moans that were hard-won prizes and treasured-little-secrets just between the two of them. “I love you,” Altair said because he did and he might never have loved the man more than he loved in that moment. He fucked into harder on the next thrust and Malik’s eyes fluttered closed as the hand on Altair’s jaw tightened. “Tell me,” Altair said (oh-so-quietly).

“It’s good,” Malik said back. His pink tongue across his lips was enough to make Altair’s brain drop straight out of his skull. Everything else was fading-out, everything was unimportant save for Malik’s body so close to his. Everything but the way Malik was stroking his dick and his ridiculous shouts were low-and-throaty noises that weren’t even words. Altair shifted his stance ever-so-slightly and Malik’s body jerked at the change as he snapped, “oh fuck,” like a bit of the highest praise and his eyes squeezed shut then opened. His hand on his dick wasn’t a lazy pull but a sudden race to the finish. “You think you can do it,” Malik mumbled, “think you can make me come like this?”

“Gotta try,” Altair said. He fucked Malik until they were both covered in sweat and Malik’s thighs were a too-tight grip against his sides. Until the sounds of their bodies turned into one long wet slip and Malik’s head was rolled back and his neck was bare and the throbbing pulse was a dizzying focal point as Altair tried-so-hard not to come because he could fucking lose it any-second. There was nothing (not anything) in the world as arousing as Malik coming undone and the feeling of it wrapped all around his body.

“Fuck,” Malik said as he came with a look of utter shock on his face.

\--

The thing about Altair was that he had the ability to strip away every bit of common sense Malik had. Everything seemed like a brilliant idea when Altair said it was but the aftermath was usually lacking in the spectacular genius of the sales pitch. Malik was still soupy-and-content with an orgasm, riding the comfortable high of endorphins and the contented feelings of being both well-fucked and well-loved. 

He had forgotten (momentarily) all about the idiots in the living room. It came to him when he was shuffling through the living room with his pants held on only by the grace of his zipper (too lazy to button) and found them all sitting around the paused video screen with varying looks of horror (mostly just Connor), uncomfortable arousal (really Desmond) and angry disbelief (Kadar). 

“Either you have to stop watching bad porn or you need to start taping his mouth shut when you fuck him,” Kadar said. He just shook his head.

Malik was too warm and comfortable to care so he gave his brother the finger. “Try not to fuck his cousin,” he said as he headed up the stairs. He was in the shower when Altair showed up and stole most of the water with his stupidly taller body. But he rubbed Malik’s shoulders and washed his hair for him so it wasn’t such a burden to put up with him. 

\--

Altair found Desmond in the kitchen the next morning with a dreary look. They ate cereal in silence until Desmond cleared his throat and said, “slept with Kadar last night. Turns out every dude in the world gives a better blow job than your boyfriend.”

“It’s sadly true.” 

“I am still trying to figure out if you have an exhibitionist streak or if you’re angry that we’ve been meeting up at your house. I remember you saying you didn’t mind as long as we asked first and I did ask you about yesterday.”

Altair picked his bowl up to put it in the sink and considered the merits of actually going to work. He had been a faithful little stooge long enough he was almost rolling in sick time and paid leave. There wasn’t even anything important he had to do at the office. “First one, I think. A little annoyed you didn’t unlock the door. Definitely like having people watch me have sex though.”

Desmond rolled his eyes.


End file.
